Authors: Brandilyn Collins
An eternal, heart-stopping moment followed. Had Baxter somehow known we were coming and slipped away?
The front door opened. Baxter appeared, hand on the doorknob.
A rush of air escaped my mouth. I leaned forward, clutching the dashboard, and riveted my eyes upon him.
Baxter Jackson looked nothing like the king of Vonita now. Nothing like the respected head elder at church. His clothes were rumpled, his usually perfect hair out of place. Lines etched his face, as if he hadn’t slept.
Slater spoke. I couldn’t hear the words, but I knew he was informing Baxter of his arrest.
Baxter’s face turned wooden. He looked from his old friend Chief Eddington to Officer Slater. His hand slipped from the door, fell to hang limply at his side.
Slater took hold of Baxter’s arm and nudged him outside. Then turned him around and snapped cuffs on him.
In my mind I saw Linda lowering her shirt.
“I didn’t get those bruises by running into a door.”
My hand fumbled for the car door. I opened it.
As they escorted Baxter down his own steps to Slater’s waiting car, I got out of Perry’s SUV and moved to stand by the hood. Arms folded. Like a soldier. Watching.
Baxter caught my movement. His head turned toward me. For a blazing moment our eyes met.
His head jerked away, his mouth twisting.
The last six years rushed over me. In that split second they were all worth it—every day I’d pounded walls because of Baxter, every minute I’d suffered. His expression said,
You win
,
Joanne. I lose. And I’ll hate you to my dying day for it.
Good, Baxter. That’s just fine by me.
Slater put Baxter in his back seat. Shut the door.
The evidence team entered Baxter’s house.
I didn’t move until the three vehicles circled around the gracious driveway and turned onto the street, headed for the police station.
AUGUST 2004
Melissa froze. The sudden light in the closet shown harshly on Baxter, crouched in the back.
Linda stilled, her hands up in front of her, fingers spread. She gaped at her husband as if he were some ghastly apparition.
No one moved. Baxter’s mouth opened but no sound came.
A growling cry escaped Linda’s throat, full of despair and hatred and rage. At the threshold of the closet she tilted to one side, nearly fell over. Her right hand gripped the door jamb, and she caught herself. Slowly she straightened, her knuckles blanching white.
“I
knew
it!” she screamed, her head tilted back, a throbbing pulse in her neck. “I knew it, I knew it!” She heaved herself backward, fingers dug into her scalp. Her wild, glazed eyes rose toward the ceiling. Abruptly she swiveled and hurtled out the door.
“I’ll ruin you both right
now
!” Linda’s threat shrieked through the air. Melissa heard her footsteps pound down the stairs.
Baxter jumped up. “Linda, stop!” He ran after her.
A terrifying sequence shot through Melissa’s head. Linda would call Joanne Weeks. Or jump in her car and screech over there.
Melissa raced out of the room behind Baxter.
They hit the stairs. Melissa slipped at the top one and crashed into Baxter. He cursed, grabbed the banister. Melissa righted herself, and they tore down the rest of the way.
From the kitchen rolled the sound of Linda’s wrenching sobs.
“Linda!” Baxter raced across the hall and around the corner into the kitchen. He skidded to a halt. Melissa nearly ran into him a second time. She swerved to his right and stopped in her tracks.
Linda stood six feet away, both hands pointing a butcher knife toward her husband. Her feet were far apart, her teeth bared like a feral animal. “
Don’t
you come near me.”
Baxter raised his hands. “What do you think you’re doing? Put that down right now.” He stepped toward her.
“Don’t!” Linda’s cheeks flamed. She jabbed at the air, hands shaking.
“Put it down now, Linda. Or I promise you’ll be sorry.”
Fear stretched her expression. She held on tighter than ever. Melissa took in Baxter’s slitted eyes, the rock of his jaw. She’d never seen him so angry. She looked back to Linda, unpredictable and crazed. Melissa knew how sharp that butcher knife was. Many a time she’d watched it glide through meat. Panic bloomed in her head.
Four diagonal feet away from Melissa sat the butcher block of knives on the counter.
“Linda, put it
down
!” Spittle flew from Baxter’s teeth.
“I’ll cut you, Baxter, so help me.” Linda brandished the huge knife. “You and your perfect little Christian self.”
Nothing would be the same after this night, nothing. “You’re not going to win this, Linda,” Melissa spat. “Two against one.”
Linda sneered at her husband. “How cute. Now you have a sixteen-year-old protecting you. Were you that helpless in
bed
too?”
Baxter’s eyes shot fire. He lunged at his wife.
“No!” Linda carved the knife through the air. Baxter dodged to one side. The blade whooshed inches from his arm.
Melissa darted for the butcher’s block and yanked out a carving knife.
Baxter whipped upright and leapt for Linda again. She cringed to her right, fell into the counter. Her clenched hands sank, but she fought to keep hold of the knife. “Stay aw—”
Her husband balled a fist and smashed it into her cheek. Bone crunched. Linda’s head ricocheted. Her eyes flattened.
Linda’s stubborn hands thrust the butcher knife upward. Baxter swung away.
Melissa darted behind Linda, her own blade raised.
Keening moans spilled from Linda’s lips. She staggered a step toward Baxter, knife swinging. Her cries climbed higher, higher, until Melissa’s brain would explode with the sound.
Baxter jumped to the side and hit the stove. Linda closed in, screaming like a madwoman sacrificing on the altar. She raised her blade high, pointed down.
Melissa gritted her teeth, jumped behind Linda, and plunged the carving knife deep into her back.
The scream cut off with a gasp. Linda’s head rolled to one side, almost in slow motion. The butcher knife clattered to her feet. A strangling sound rose in her throat.
Melissa pulled shaking fingers from the knife handle.
Linda slumped to the hardwood floor.
FEBRUARY 2010
Perry offered again to let me sleep in his guest room. He needed to get to his store, so I’d still be alone. “But maybe after all that’s happened you’ll feel safer at someone else’s place,” he said.
We’d just driven away from the Jackson house. I’d looked back twice, still seeing that hate-filled expression on Baxter’s face.
Justice
,
Linda. You’re finally going to have justice.
“Perry.” I squeezed his arm. “Thanks. But now that it’s done, I just want to sleep in my own bed—while I can.”
Dan and Slater were going to fight against bail for Baxter, but they couldn’t guarantee they’d win—especially if plans went awry and they didn’t bring in Melissa right away. Until she led them to Linda’s body and testified before the grand jury, they couldn’t add the charge of Linda’s murder to those Baxter currently faced.
If Baxter got out on bail, I would not be spending nights alone in my own house.
Perry gave me a wan smile. He looked tired too. “I understand. Check in with me when you wake up?”
“Count on it.”
On the short drive to my house I called Dineen. No answer. She was probably in the shower, getting ready for work. “It’s done,” I told her message machine. “Everything’s okay. I’m going to sleep now. Call you when I wake up.”
Perry insisted on coming into the house with me just to make sure all was well. As we walked past Billy Bass in the hall, the stupid thing went off. I nearly jumped to the ceiling. Perry watched Billy’s performance, chuckling. “I haven’t seen one of these things in years.”
I looked from him to Billy Bass, sudden awkwardness floating around in my chest. I rubbed my arms. “It was Tom’s.”
Perry gave me a long, searching look. Then nodded.
I turned away and made for the Jelly Belly drawer in my office. Popped a handful of myriad flavors onto my tongue and chewed like there was no tomorrow. My jaw seemed to move in slow motion.
“Want some?” I asked Perry, my mouth full.
He shook his head. “It’s more fun just watching you.”
At the front door I hugged him, and he held me for a moment, chin resting on my head. He smelled slightly of men’s lime soap, even though we’d been up all night. His arms around me felt so…good. I didn’t want to let him go.
“I’ll never thank you enough, Perry.”
“Nah. It was nothin’. You need me again—‘Help Is on Its Way.’” He raised his eyebrows.
My brain wouldn’t work. “Chicago?” The tune played through my head. “No. Little River Band.”
“What album?”
“Greatest Hits
.”
“Cheater.”
“I gotta get to bed.”
Perry smiled. “Next time, no excuse.” He stepped outside.
I closed the door and locked it.
On someone else’s legs I walked down the hall, into my room. I didn’t even take my clothes off. Just fell onto the bed. Vaguely I registered the time on my nightstand clock. Seven-forty in the morning. I’d been up for forty-eight hours.
As much as I needed sleep, my rebellious body fought it. Maybe it just didn’t remember how to rest.
I lay on my back, eyes closed, thinking of Melissa and Linda and Baxter. Wondering how all this would play out. Finding Melissa. The hearings, the trial.
So…
very…
much…
to…
The quicksand pit opened up, inviting. I stepped into it. And sank…
Sank…
As it opened its mouth to swallow me, Billy Bass started to sing.
AUGUST 2004
Melissa couldn’t move. She stared at Linda’s body, the blood leaking from the wound in her back. Linda lay on her side, fighting to breathe. Her eyes were at half-mast, her twitching hands outstretched. The butcher knife lay on the floor near her fingers.
Did I do that? Did I really stab her?
Baxter pulled himself upright, eyes wide. He gaped at Linda, all color draining from his face. Twice he blinked, as if to erase the nightmare before him. “No.
No
.”
He fell on his knees beside his wife. One of his hands knocked the butcher knife away. It scudded across the floor. Shaking, Baxter reached for Linda’s shoulder. “Linda, can you hear me? Linda!”
Her mouth yawed open, creaking in air.
“She’s not breathing enough. I have to give her CPR!” Baxter started to roll Linda on her back, but the knife still stuck out of her, angled high and to the left of her spine.
Had it gone all the way to her heart?
Baxter ogled the knife, helpless.
Linda wheezed and gasped. The horrifying sounds shot right through Melissa. She pressed her hands to her temples, trying to
think
.
“Can you do it while she’s lying on her side?”
“No!”
“Try it.”
“It won’t work!”
“
Try
it!”
“Melissa, it
won’t work
.” Panic gripped Baxter’s face. “We have to breathe hard. If her heart stops we’ll have to pump it.”
“Then take out the knife.”
Baxter’s mouth worked, as if the mere thought made him sick. “I—can’t. What if it hurts her more?”
Something hard and heavy settled within Melissa. Her mind cleared. “Hold her steady. I’ll do it.”
“I don’t—”
“Baxter, just
do
it!”
Air rattled in and out of Linda’s throat. Her eyes were now wide open and fixed, her skin beige.
Baxter crawled on the other side of Linda, facing her. One bracing hand slid behind her shoulder, the other at her lower back. He turned his head to the side, squeezed his eyes shut.
Melissa sank to her knees and grasped the knife handle with both hands. She pulled hard. It slid out with a nauseating, sucking sound.
Linda convulsed. Her throat rattled as if it were her last breath.
Melissa jumped to her feet and out of the way. Baxter eased Linda onto her back. The rattling intensified, then turned to a gurgle.
Melissa still clutched the knife. She edged to the sink and dropped it in. From behind her came the frantic sound of Baxter’s CPR. She turned to see his mouth pressed on Linda’s, puffing hard breaths. His fingers pinched her nose.
Her hands shot up, desperately clawing the air as if to scrape oxygen from it. Her eyes were wide with terror, the eyes of a dying woman.
Baxter pulled back, chest heaving. Blood bubbled from Linda’s mouth.
“No!” He wiped it away with his palm. Surged down and covered her lips again. This time her chest would barely rise, as if the air seeped out of her very pores. Baxter blew like a madman.
Sudden jealousy and anguish surged through Melissa. This was
wrong
. With all of Baxter’s shoving Linda around, what right did he have to act like this? Not to mention the man had been in
her
bed just ten minutes ago. Linda had tried to
kill
him. Melissa had just saved Baxter’s life, and now look at him.
Look
at him.
Huff, huff.
Baxter continued his forced breathing. Melissa wanted to kick him. To scream,
Stop it! She wanted to cut you open. She wanted to ruin you.
Melissa laced her fingers hard until her skin turned white. This wasn’t the first time in her life she’d had to pull herself in tight to protect her own sanity. She closed her eyes and pounded her anger. Beat it down, down into fine sand granules.
In her mind she saw herself sweep the granules away.
She opened her eyes, her jaw set.
Linda’s clawing arms slowed…sank to the floor.
Baxter jerked up again, frantically searching her face. Blood smeared his cheeks. “Linda? Come
on
.”